When love is in bloom

A fine line..

There is a fine line between the haves and have nots of this world.  I have not been one to elaborate on the injustices of this world because quite simply... as clear as it may appear to those who examine it from the fringes of society as complex as it is for them who struggle with the consequences of decisions resulted from these fine lines.

Yesterday morning along the path way from my home I was barricaded by a crowd of flustered individuals. As I hesitantly crept forward I noticed a body lying still on the hard stone pebbled road way. He appeared to be somewhere in his early twenties. His head was facing my direction and eyes were closed almost as if he were prepared whisper a secret to any prepared to listen. His arms were sprawled on each end but under his left side fresh blood gushed from his chest. He was finely dressed, almost as if dressed for church or some other celebratory occasion. About 10 feet to his left  lay a younger body. The neighbors claim it was his younger brother, dressed in matching attire with an gray ivy cap.

 I stood stunned.  It was not the first time I had viewed dead bodies before, but as I left for work it quite honestly was the last thing I intended to confront. Some members of the crowd screamed in despair. Other stood in anger, obviously troubled by the acts which had recently taken place. Varied tales were recounted- robbers had attacked them with knowledge of their visit to the bank, they were member of  gangs who lived not to far away from the area, shots were fired etc..  It all seemed like a blur.

I began to wonder how this news would be broken to these young men's family?. What dire reality could have motivated an individual to take their lives? To literally play God.  A scary reality, an unsettling reality- but a reality we live with everyday.

And yes, simply - regardless of what tale was true, we all know these stories to well. The media has left us desensitized . This was a story of a have and a have not.  Regardless of how little, how much more these two brothers actually had. The perpetrators decided it would be there final day. They had something someone envied. As I stared at the older brother's body, his lithe body gently closed eye lids, and perked lips ready to whisper a secret to any who would listen.
 ..

I saw it all.

As I looked into her eyes I saw a whirlwind memories.  In her eyes I saw my self.  In her eyes I saw it all...

For quite some time now I have attempted to mentally document a myriad  of tales and stories that could be pieced together to share a memoir of sorts. And as each tale has unfolded before my very eyes- questions continued to lure in.  I hungered for more, yet hesitated with each step.

 It was like somebody opening up a treasure chest- and all I could do was just sit in awe of how sparkly it all was.  And till this day I still am. And as I continue to familiarize myself with the contents within, it all begins to make sense.

Urgency.

I like to believe this urgency,  this yearning to equip myself with the best of what is out there. 
I like to believe this need to acquire knowledge and understanding,  to solve problems and build bridges, to enable others the chance to travel the road of self discovery.. 
I like to believe this began not with me,but with those that came before me...
 Those that paved  the road I now curiously peruse, those that suffered so I could dream 
- those that were, those that are , those that will be.

Moments of Impact

There are moments of impact in each person's life that are critical to defining who we are and who we become. As travelers of this world, as purveyors of the land, members of a society.

Many times as the pages of our lives continue to unfold, we are so unraveled in the details, in the nuances of the everyday that we almost forget.   The moments which shape us into the entity we see, the moments which     mold our decisions or are lack their of, the moments our souls call home.

We have a pool boy.

March 20, 2012
We finally have a  "pool boy".

April, 5, 2012
 We call him" ti blan"  , but he is actually called Stevenson Durat.

April 7, 2012
Of course, I have only spoken to him in passing, you know the usual
"Good Morning...
The pool looks great today!
..How is the family?"
.nobody actually , really "talks" to a pool boy.

He is simply here to do his "pool duties": scrub, clean, disinfect and keep the pool sparkly blue.

April 20, 2012
I mean, even if I wanted to discover more about" ti blan"would that even be socially acceptable?

April 25,2012
I caught "ti blan" singing today. As I meandered on back  I heard the most melodious sound, so naturally I followed it. The closer I got to the music, the more enchanted I became. The words were so poignant and true. As he fiddled through the guitar strings , his words took form. They evolved. Right there, slouched near are hidden cherry Ti Blan- he shared his story, his dreams , his reality.

April 26,2012
My mind raced as I tried to piece together the realities he explicated just a few hours ago.
I need to understand.

April 28, 2012
 I approached TiBlan to day. It was strange but refreshing
Our conversation went past the 15 second schmeeal.

May 11,2012
We have been talking a bit more now a days.
Stevenson's mom is a ti marchand right near 3 Mains- She leaves 4am and gets home at around 8pm, his dad left before  had any real recollection of who he was. He is currently enrolled in a technical  school where he learns basics of hotel management. And it is all for free. Some field agents came down to his house and starting recruiting youth interested in the trade- naturally he jumped on the chance.

May 15,2012
Stevenson wants to be a world-renown musician.

Something struck me.

I saw something beautiful today.  It was not something out of the ordinary or much of anything really. It was simple. On the bench across from me as I rode down Route National #1 there sat a young adolescent boy and what appeared to be his younger brother.

As the tap-tap slowed down for the two and the older boy carried his sibling unto the car,t in a brief moment I saw selflessness. How am I sure? well, I am not. But I like to believe I have this advanced sense of intuition which enables me to see beyond what others can, and due to my heightened sense of imagination... right away I knew their story.

They were both dressed to the tee in their vibrant uniforms. The older boy, could not have been older then eleven years old, and was suited in his neon green pleated pants and his green and white checkered button down. The toddler was in his grayish blue over-alls, - his name had been embroidered in red capital letters on his chest: SAMSON ( I think this is common custom down here to have your name embroidered on your uniform while in" garderie" / preschool, because I also recall a photo of myself where this to held true).

They were obviously coming home from school, because at this time it was a bit after one and the older brother look famished. His skin was a bit tarred from the warm island sun. But his younger brother,Samson, with his bright orange "sa pi bon" popsicle in hand was ready to take on the world. His smile alone lit up the cart.

Little did most of us know...He and his older brother, were up before the break of dawn, at around 4:30 this morning. His older brother had to run  15 minutes to the village cistern to fill his bucket  with some water for him and his brother to shower before breakfast. His dad, couldn't have gone because they live with their mother. But she is barely home, she works as a servant from Monday through Saturday. Samson accompanies his older brother to the well, although his older brother repeatedly tells him he doesn't need company and that Samson only slows him down. (His older brother know Samson could use the few more moments of rest.)

But Samson is insistant and can't help it.. He adores his older brother. For a long time now, it has been just the two of them . He actually can't remember other wise.  

Their uniform is still moist from his older brother's attempt to wash off last week's stench but they look brand new. Samson's older brother, fixes his lunch box with his favorites - salted crackers,cheese and ketchup sandwich and an extra 5 gourdes for Samson's favorite treat: "  orange "sa pi bon" popsicles.

His older brother takes Samson's hand and walks another twenty minutes to the  nearest taptap station.As they sped down the hill, they make it a few seconds after 6:30. "This is the last time!" The chauffeur yelled "Tommorrow, you kids don't make it on time and you walk the whole way."  Samson was terrified by this taptap driver's voice, and his older brother pulled him near...

After a long day at school it was time to head home.His older brother picked Samson up from school and was glad to see he had found the hidden dollar. Samson was already savoring his delicious orange flavored popsicle. His joy was contagious.

Oblivion..

The moment when all your hopes and dreams seem like an oh so distant fairy-tale, I believe is detrimental to a person's core, detrimental to a person's humanity. 

As I watched my cherry-red blood drip down my chest and splatter into the pearly white floor. Instinctfully, I leaped down to clean up after myself- but as I attempted to stretch out into the floor I felt each ligament tear a bit more.  The pain was excruciating, and  as my knuckles became numb - my eyes began drift away into oblivion...

Waves.

 I've recently been harassed with thoughts, stipulations, nightmares of mere mortality. I wake up in the middle of the night trembling and frozen in fear.  And within those moments of helpless I relinquish my worries, my reality to Those which set it all before me. As I try to navigate  through these foreign thoughts, these  alien sensations clouded in what ifs? in fractures of doubt.. I am certain that I was born to live forever, that I was born not to end.. In these raw moments of trying to make sense of it all, I turn to that which I have placed my faith in. 

Currently yes I stand, walking  against what seem like the tallest wave  I have ever seen. And yet, I rest assured that while this wave seems insurmountable .. it will too come to pass.. 

 I will look down one day and smile 

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.. John 14:1-3

Caught up in my day dreams...

When will the day come when the actuality I see for others are reflected in the canvases painted by reality?

 What is meant to be shall be.

I am excellent.

"I am excellent."

Those were the sincere words exclaimed by a young vibrant 13 year old girl named Adjanie. As she walked in the room you could immediately feel her warmth, her radiant smile shared a story of triumph and hope. 

Our meeting was unexpected. Adjanie wasn't on our agenda for that matinee at the hospital, but after our interview with her everything seemed achievable.

She was open and honest about her experience with HIV.  She knew all the details of her stay at the inpatient ward at Grace Children's Hospital. "I was hospitalized at Grace through out two periods of time, the first period was from June,11th 2009 to September 3rd 2009- a total of 3 months and 17 days... " With the poise of a lady way beyond her years, Adjanie shared with us her story. 

Her thin frame and scarred skin brought to life her sleepless nights, and fatigued body. She had recently experienced a poor reaction to the medication- she had been vomiting for days, felt feverish, her wounds were fresh- her weakened immune system was at a delicate state..  But while yes, her eyes glistened as she spoke- all we could do was sit in awe of this little girl as she recounted her journey with what I always believed to be one of the most horrific illnesses known to man.

Never did she complain, never did she seek pity, never did she speak aimlessly. She spoke confidently, "I live in Delmas 75 with my family ,  I recently came from school- it was wonderful..."  Her words were clear, not muffled- from what I could see she had found her voice. While each day was a constant struggle,s triumph. "... I  was ill , but now I am all better"  She spoke about her hopes for other children facing the same realities she's had to, and prayed  that they had access to the quality health care she had at Grace.

My eyes welled up with tears- when we came toward the end of our session with Adjanie , and asked her how she was.. She boldly stated " I am excellent..."

How could someone, suffering from an incurable virus be excellent? how could someone who was recently hospitalized speak with such sincerity and joy? 

Voice.

I was recently minded by a pleasant soul, the mere joy one can find in sharing their voice with another. What I have come to recognize as my voice is one tattered with experiences, enveloped in curiosity, and seasoned with the specs life has bestowed upon me.

Within this past year I have had the opportunity to come back to the place I cherish the most- my home, Haiti.  Within this short year- I have learned so much more about myself, my passions, my history, and who I am to becoming.

 And I  have been recently phased with the challenge of articulating these experiences, of making sense of them- what they mean to me. How they will shape my future, what I will carry with me.And this may mirror what I have done here in the past or it may change- I am not quite how it will look yet, but it is important for me to recommit myself to this process.

So here we go.

The tale of the king & the servant...

I curled up in her arms: as she once again recounted my favorite childhood story… Her raspy voice was melodious and true, filled with hope and sincerity


Once upon a time in a far, far away land lived a king and his servant. This land was lush, full, and plentiful… The forest served as a fortress around his castle.


 The King and his servant had grown very close throughout the years.  The servant served as a guardian, teacher, and faithful friend to the King.  Through all the years side by side the servant always reminded the King of one truth:  all that happens in this life is  for our benefit, for our good.


One day the king decided to go out on an adventure and of course the servant followed. 
As they traveled through the forest they unfortunately encountered a huge monstrous creature, resembling Beowulf‘s antagonist, Grendel. The servant in all his might, did everything he could to protect the king, and defeat the evil creature. And he did, he defeated the creature.


The King and his servant’s lives were spared, thanks to his fearless servant, but regrettably the king lost a finger in battle. Surprisingly the king was furious at his servant for not having saved his finger and threw the servant in jail.But although thrown into jail the servant repeated this one truth: all that happens in this life is for our benefit, for our good.

The king’s adventurous spirit didn’t take long to rise again. A little after a month, the king was out and about alone, in search of a new thrill out in the forest.  As he trenched through the woods he encountered a group of savages that immediately took him hostage. As the savages rejoiced as they prepared the fire for this sacrificial offering, the king. The king prayed as he lay in preparation for death.


As the fire crackled and churned away, the savages examined their sacrificial offering one last time they noticed the king’s missing finger. “ He is unfit!” they exclaimed and abandoned his body in the woods. The king was tarnished and an unfit offering that evening. The words of the kings servant resounded in his mind: all that happens in this life is for our benefit, for our good.  His life was spared because of his missing finger! 


He hurried home and immediately freed his servant from jail as he begged for his forgiveness.  The king was left with one troubling question; why did he throw his humble servant in jail? His servant had done no wrong, simply protected his king and was thrown in jail like a criminal?


The king shared his confusion with the servant. But again the servant humbly replied this one truth: all that happens in this life is for our benefit, for our good.  


The servant went on to explain " if I wasn’t in jail the evening you went out into the woods I would have been with you. And would have definitely  been killed, because I have all my limbs...
... zzzzzz

le palmier, l'arbre de la victoire...

 Victory, honor, truth, value , vitality , warmth , fertility ,expansion ,protection, aspiration, attainment, unification…  all characteristic of an entity in nature.. All qualities of what our forefathers found to exemplify a nation. A nation filled with revolutionaries.

Upon gazing at a palm tree, I seldom think of Hurricane Flora, who struck the south west peninsula of Haiti in 1963, one of the deadliest hurricanes in our history wiping out thousands of lives and leaving over a hundred thousand homeless.

At 7 years of age, my father’s life was changed forever.

 After a restless night filled with strong winds, rain and prayer,  the 7am radio news broadcaster exclaimed that school was postponed  for yet another week. This little boy’s contentment could be readily seen across this toothless smile.”What could possibly be more wonderful?” He thought. “..one more week filled with soccer till dawn,  trios-sept with his sisters, quality time with his nomadic father.” His imagination ran wild.

The solemn look on his papa’s face was slightly disturbing and rather mysterious. Why didn’t his father share his excitement?  Has his father not heard the news?
He clenched his papa hands as they both slipped through the tall cedar door and peeked outside.  He followed his father’s footsteps up the rocky hill that led up to the overlook of their small village, Casanet, Beaumont, and finally he understood.

Everything was annihilated. Their young peasant family had lost almost everything. As his tiny palms clung on to his somber Papa’s finger tips, they surveyed the once rich, green and fertile mountain tops. Entire towns were buried by landslides, and their once so fertile lands filled with ample vegetation were entirely destroyed by the inland flooding. As they screened the land there was only one standing monument, which was rather perplexing to a 7 year old boy. So he asked “Papa why is that palm still standing?...”

Our national tree, le palmier, stood taller and rose above. The evergreen looked up toward heaven and performed exquisitely in this deadly storm. A few short hours ago, the strong winds attempted to tear it down, havoc wreaked as the 60 foot edifice swayed from side to side, witnessing hundreds of homes crumble to their feet. And that day, it served as a symbol of hope to a tiny, seven year old boy. The palm, a symbol of protection, peace, and opportunity, has served as the tree of life to this family as it had to millions for thousand of years. 

In the midst of what appeared to be the most horrific day of the year, stood a symbol of victory, a symbol of resilience. My father stared up at his father and couldn’t help but wear a huge grin, as if they shared a secret no one else would ever understand.

This wasn’t the end; it was only the beginning of a new season. A season filled  with joy, happiness, love, and hope.

Peace

tranquility,

simplicity,

serenity,

 a state of harmony,

 the absences of war, 

a state of balance & understanding in yourself & between others,

freedom, bliss...

To know with absolute certainty that where ever you are at this very moment is exactly where you need to be, where you were created to be, 

To know within your very core that every decision you have ever made, every occurrence,  every breath, every hesitation was to bring you here. 

Was to bring you to a place of inexplicable joy, unwavering contentment.

To a place where you are celebrated, 

a place where you  wholly believe that if you allow 

your spirit, 

your aura, 

your purity, 

your core

 to be made manifest, to flow freely 

with out hindrance, with out hesitation, without judgement,

Brings you to a place of power, a place of fulfillment

I come from...

I come from the high lands … the mountainous lands…

            I come from the land of the Tainos and Arawaks and their blood still flow through my veins.

            I come from the ancient beatings of the drums of the mother land…

            I come from the world’s first black republic …

            I come from the vodoun culture…

            I come from Bohio, ‘Nan lakou lakay’, (home)…

            I come from Quisqueya, “the mother of all lands”…

            I come from Haiti, “a land which is ours”...

         

Unheard revolutionaries: Turning trash into gold..

Entreprenuer Profiled: Natasha Joacine, one of HPCD's dynamic entrepreneurs who recently graduated from our 2010-11 class, is an excellent example of  creativity, determination and will. Natasha has literally transformed her community by recycling trash into beautiful products. She has also implemented a community development bureau entitled Association de Petit Genis. This bureau is a space where  over 1,000 children  in the community have access to training from skilled artisans and learn how to make beautiful products from trash.  With HPCD’s help Natasha has now expanded her enterprise to accommodate over 500 women, and 150 seniors and now has opened a new office in center city. She currently has 16 stable employees. Natasha believes

 in the power recycling, and the power of transforming her society by using what is already there:  trash, people, creativity, and will!

Uncensored Truth

(Frustration, dissatisfaction, imperfection, failures are all challenges as humans we face at one point or the other. And yes, facing these realities are taxing but they are unfortunately inevitable.)

The uncensored truth flows freely in every street corner.

And you have asked me to tell you the truth?

The uncensored truth is hidden in every street corner.

 Moun yo ap goumen, fighting to make it, fighting to make a difference, fighting for their big break.

Nou ap priye, praying to make it, praying to make a difference, praying for our big break

And you have asked me to tell you the truth?

It is seen on their faces, in their fatigue, in the corner they’ve involuntarily staked out as their own. You see it in the 95 degree tent they have learned to call their home.

It is written all over my face, just open your eyes and listen

The uncensored truth stands in every pile of rubble that has yet to be moved.

It peeks through your gates and confronts you with the legitimacy of my reality

 and your semblance of what is true,

Baggai yo pa fasil, difficulties blind their future, their realities, truths hinder them from seeing the other side of the mountain. 

unheard revolutionaries...

 A few short weeks ago I had the opportunity to interview one of the most vivacious entrepreneurs of our program. She is currently in the textile industry and produces all types of high quality garments. My reaction to this was pleasantly awe-inspiring. I had just sat through 33 different interviews, where we posed the same four questions and the answers quickly grew to be indistinctive.

It all begin with the first answer to our first question:  Who are you? Every single time I have asked an individual this question or been posed it myself my immediate inclination is to share my name, age etc. But upon reflection this question does really encompass a lot more.  And Clorene Blaise, this highly distinguishable entrepreneur, seemed in tune with the inquiry, who she was, who she wants to be, her very essence .

Instead of simply telling me her name, she recounted the names of those who came before her, those who surround her, those who inspire her. Clorene comes from Cite Soleil, international renown for its violence. Clorene told me of Cite Soleil artists, entrepreneur, trail blazers, revolutionaries.

When asked how many people she employed and how she views job creation with in the country. Her response illuminated my inner most desire for the country of Haiti. The people she employs are Haiti’s future. She sees her small business growing exponentially in the next few years and her workers will make sure this dream is a reality. These people will have an improve standard of living,

prioritize education, walk taller, and be filled with dignity.

She spoke of how she began her textile company.  An industry who is not locally known for its thriving capacities but for a fall back option for pregnant teenage women disowned by their families. Clorene, a world changer, plans to revolutionize the textile industry, it will not only be a place where desolate woman will slave as factory worker in big foreign owned factories, but a locally owned enterprise primarily managed  by local Haitian women  which aims to enforce strength,hope, dignity, and solidarity.

Surprise..

Preconceived notions are formed almost instantaneously, especially when it comes to one the biggest and most “dangerous “slums of the western hemisphere.

I’ve lived about 10 minutes from Cite Soleil for about 14 yrs of my life, yet due to the media, fear, and suspicious activity reported within this area, (or maybe just because I am classist prick)  I never really frequented the area.

Yesterday as we commenced our day, my father randomly decided to set an appointment with a pastor he had been collaborating in the Cite Soleil area.  Naturally, I had mixed feelings but anticipated  the encounter none the less.

We drove into Cite Soleil where we met up with the Pastor and before I knew it the scenery which had previously been masked with plastic bottles and filth had been transformed. The neighborhood was spotless. Cleanest neighborhood I have seen to date. What I anticipated and what I saw were polar opposites.  The kids were not angry and violent; they actually welcomed us with open arms. It almost seemed like the people stood a bit taller.

 What we later learned was that the community with the stewardship of Pastor Hillaire , had decided that they would change their community.  All the youth had recently laid down their weapons and personally took the initiative to make the neighborhood their own.  By constant up keep and taking part of the many initiative within their community, example: basing the foundation for the school which digicel foundation plans to place within the area  which seemed solidify the sense of community,served as way to continue to serve each other and their country. .